


Home

by Sssyzygy1



Category: The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: Community: shamyficexchange, F/M, The Big Bang Theory (TV) References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24999886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sssyzygy1/pseuds/Sssyzygy1
Summary: ONE SHOT: SHAMY   After an interruption of his schedule due to a missed haircut, Sheldon is thrown off balance.  Will the Chaos consume him?  Will he find a way to balance the scales?  Where will the music take him?   My take on the spiraling thoughts of one Dr. Sheldon Cooper during the Werewolf Transformation.
Relationships: Sheldon Cooper/Amy Farrah Fowler
Kudos: 10





	Home

_“Where are you going?”_

_“Wherever the music takes me, Kitten.”_

Had that really just come out of his mouth?Where was he going?He was making his way down the stairs, playing bongos- BONGOS-in the middle of the night.He should stop and head back upstairs immediately and get on the computer and finish his search for a barber.This was all Richard Feynman’s fault.Bongos!This was ridiculous.His bed was just up three flights of stairs, for sobbing out loud!

But he couldn’t go home.Was that even home?He didn’t know anymore.All he knew was that he must follow this chaos, wherever it might take him.And it was leading him into the darkened streets of Pasadena, in the middle of the night, in his Tuesday pajamas- on a Saturday!Universe only knows why: Maybe he had lost his mind. 

Chaos.Chaos Theory.He’d always been a proponent of Chaos Theory.It was obvious, even to a novice, that the universe appeared chaotic, but in reality, there were patterns and fractals and interlocking parts everywhere.His mind had always been able to see and arrange those patterns with lighting-quick efficiency, and in fact, that’s why he was successful in his work; that’s why he was a once-in-a-generation mind.He had never paused to wonder why that was:he knew his mind recognized patterns because he had trained himself to use patterns even in his infancy. 

His thoughts, like the universe, were chaotic.He couldn’t stand the chaos for any lengthy amount of time.No one could bear that level of chaos all the time:It would be impossible to live, and work, and function in society. Even as a toddler he had understood that in order to maintain some semblance of normalcy, he would have to learn to order these thousands of thoughts.The answer was, at least in part, in his schedules.Without those schedules, he would have no time to comprehend the bigger questions of life, science, and the universe. 

Yes, his brain was his best commodity, butt he truth was, between the chaos of his thoughts and the constant barrage of images from his eidetic memory, it was a curse as well as a blessing. Recognizing stimulants from every corner of every moment of every day could be quite exhausting.More exhausting, however, was letting those stimulants go unanswered and worse, un-cataloged.He had to file each moment, each thought, each equation into its own space within the caverns of his brain.Just like in Chaos theory, in order for his universe to continue to run smoothly, he had to self-organize. Control was necessary to survive.Without said control, he would sink beneath the weight of each crushing wave of thought.Wave after wave would barrage his system until he was drowning.His schedules were his life-preserver.It had always been this way.His schedules were his only anchor to a productive reality.Above all else, strict adherence to said schedules was both rudimentary and required.

**xxxxxx**

Ruminating on these thoughts, Sheldon progressed through Pasadena and found that his sojourn was becoming physically exhausting, as well as mentally abhorrent.Plainly stated, his feet and muscles ached from his long walk, and the weight of the bongos he carried and occasionally drummed, and his eyes were drooping with tiredness. He took his phone from the pocket of his robe, and signaled for an Uber, though he wasn’t sure yet where he should go.He still felt he couldn’t go back to the apartment.Nothing, but unanswered questions and concerns existed there.What was his reality?His work was theoretical.He recognized that because his work was theoretical he spent a lot of time on another plane of existence, as it were.But to remain productive and accomplished, he would need to learn to live within the reality that he was now facing: a reality where sometimes his schedule would be interrupted by life. 

Mr. Denofrio was dying.He felt something akin to confusion, and even grief, at the thought of his death, but more, at the upheaval the hole his life would now have without Mr. Denofrio. Mr. Denofrio’s presence served as a symbol of stability, and more, as a symbol of his home in Texas, and his mother’s presence for him here in California.Without him, was that stabilizing force gone for good? And not only was that taken from him. not only would everything change (and he abhorred change on every level), he also felt unprofessional, like a hippie, or a teen-heart throb. How could he be treated seriously with his hair growing at such an accelerated rate?He was more than perturbed by this whole development. He almost felt that his life had been flipped upside-down.

If he couldn’t count on his schedule to anchor him,then perhaps he wouldn’t continue his productivity.Perhaps his genius would never be recognized?Perhaps his Nobel was at stake?!Chaos theory indicated that a single occurrence- a linchpin-could be the undoing of the galaxy.What if this was his?What if his one missed haircut, or the loss of Mr. Denofrio, was the linchpin he feared? What if no one would see his genius, and instead, he would prove what they all whispered about anyway:that he was crazy. 

But he wasn’t crazy!His mother had him tested.Self-doubt ate at him.His mother had never followed up with the specialist, after all. He could be crazy.He could be pathologically insane.He knew he was unusual:eccentric, quirky, those were the words that were used when they spoke of him in common conversation.But when he wasn’t around?He had heard them mention he was “bat-crap crazy”.Behind closed doors, he was “Dr. Whackdoodle". He fought hard against that stigma.He knew that if he were crazy, he was somehow less, or even completely inferior. He had to find a way to show them he was superior.He wasn’t crazy. 

Maybe by embracing this chaos he would be able to balance the scales?Maybe he could counter-balance the linchpin.That’s why he had struck out on this journey through Pasadena.He could prove that he could survive without his schedule.He could control the anarchy of these thoughts.Maybe then he could go home?But where?To his spot?Its importance, for some reason, seemed somewhat diminished.It was just an inanimate couch regardless of the temporal comfort it provided.Was Texas home?Not anymore, maybe not ever.He had certainly never fit in there.He was misunderstood, and not accepted.Caltech?The board of directors kept him on for his intellect, sure, but Dr. Siebert had - on more than one occasion- indicated he felt that he was crazy. Leonard?He was his friend, but Leonard was making al life with Penny.Where was home?Where was the music taking him?Where was his reality?Where was he grounded and secure?Where was the comfort that he needed most?Who understood him and accepted him?Who was it that really knew him, and still did not judge? His breath was coming quickly now, and he was on the verge of panic.

And then a still, small voice wafted through his tired mind, so mellifluously, bringing him a sense of calm:his Amy. 

_Well, this isn’t a crisis… You might look sexy with long hair._

What a vixen she was! And she had both distracted him- which he knew was her intention- and calmed him by pointing out the reality of his situation. This hair-cut ordeal was not his linchpin. He was bigger and more important that a haircut.He could handle this. He closed his eyes, finding a seat on the bench as he waited for his Uber. He imagined her as she probably was rat this very moment: sleeping peacefully, in her waterbed, with her hair flowing around her, and her cheeks rosy from the warmth of her plaid pajamas.A book would be resting on the nightstand. 

He hoped she dreamed of him, perhaps like the vision she expressed to him:bareback on a horse, bare-chested, with his long locks blowing in the wind.It was a silly fantasy.She knew he would never ride a horse!But the idea that she thought of him in such a romantic, sexy way somehow made him happy, excited, even a little…aroused. There was a classic sense of male pride that he could arouse his woman.She was his, after all, they had a contract and everything. And he realized fleetingly, he was hers. 

She accepted him, providing both unwavering support and constant faith in his abilities and his actions.She never once called him crazy.She never once questioned his schedules.She knew, innately, that he used his schedule as a tool to unravel the nature of the universe.It was Amy who grounded him most.It was his beautiful Amy who made the most sense to him.She gave the comfort and love he needed, even in the Chaos.Thoughts of her driving him, he stepped into the summoned Uber, and without hesitation, he provided her address.With a renewed sense of purpose, he realized that this decision was the first thing since he had stepped into that barbershop in which he had complete confidence.

**xxxxxxx**

Arriving at her door, drumming his bongos again happily, he knocked thrice, singing her name.When there was no answer, he repeated the action, louder and with more insistency. He heard her call out, groggily.When she opened the door, his breath caught in his throat.The light behind her illuminated a halo around her frame, and her eyes were bleary with sleep. Her startled look of confusion was followed by the smile he knew she saved just for him.She was perfect in every way.His finger longs to reach out and tuck the errant hairs from her face to tuck behind her ear.She wasn’t wearing her glasses, and her green eyes were like deep reflective pools.He could see himself in those pools. Just as she knew he would, she accepted his presence at her apartment without any reservation. She moved to the side, welcoming him.He stepped inside, and she closed the door.With her back to the door, she turned again to face him.With her movement, he felt whatever control he had left in his heart, and his body, fly away.She was a temptress in flannel. 

Embrace the chaos, yes, embrace the chaos and embrace her. He felt his heart rate accelerate.He laid his bongos aside, and without another coherent thought, he swept her into his arms. He wanted to kiss her senseless, and carry her off to the bedroom to have his way with her.There was no need for words as he lowered his lips to hers.His eyes closed involuntarily, and he felt her arms move up and around his neck as he pulled her flush against his body. He teased her mouth with his tongue, until she willingly surrendered, opening for him.Why had he been denying himself the taste of her for so long?She was like honey on his lips.She was a deep well of delight, and he felt he could drink from her forever.Her hands were caressing his back, up and down, up and down. 

His mouth captured hers again and again, his tongue dancing with hers in a sensual rhythm.He pressed her back against the door, allowing his hands to wander her body, a pathway of heat building within them both, as he trailed them down her sides to grasp her bountiful bottom.Oh, her bottom, it was glorious to take her into his hands, possessing that which had always captivated him.Breaking their kiss he allowed his mouth to wander down her slender neck, whispering along the hollow of her throat. He nipped, tasting a path up to her ear, encircling the sensitive flesh. 

She groaned, “Oh Sheldon, Sheldon, _Sheldon_.”His name on her lips was like dynamite.He used his hands to lift her bottom.Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and she was more forcefully pressed against the door. His arousal was complete and his need for her beyond his comprehension. He pressed himself against her, heat emanating from both of their bodies.Thrusting lightly, he heard himself moan at the delicious zing of friction.He dove into another kiss, his hands now working quickly to pull at the tie of her robe, to pull apart her buttons.He wanted, no needed, access to her skin.He needed to feel her beneath his hands. Her hips were moving of their own accord, their bodies sliding and pressing together in desperation. 

When she was freed he slipped his hands against her soft flesh.Her skin was hot and slick. He was scorched, but he cared not about the burn, instead, he sunk even further into her.When his hands found the weight of her breasts, his tenuous grasp on control faded away.He gasped, overcome by her beauty, as he gazed at her.“So beautiful,” he murmured.He experimentally grazed his thumbs over her nipples and found they hardened instantly at his touch.He broke apart from her for an instant, looking endlessly into her eyes.Her eyes shined with consent and desire, and he played over the top of her nipples again. Her eyes closed at the sensation. He knew that she was overcome. 

“Please, Sheldon,” and she arched against him as his hips again pressed hotly against her center.She quivered with need. He felt the tug of his arousal responding. 

“Fascinating,” and he dove into her lips again.Her hands, no longer idle, pulled at his robe.She slipped her hand into the waistband of his Tuesday-pajamas, and when her fingers brushed hesitantly against his engorged flesh, he almost came undone.He could wait no longer.His need to be inside her was too great. He gripped her waist, pulling her away from the door.“Hold on to me,” he groaned.Her arms encircled him before she pressed her lips to his neck.He kissed her again as he carried her to the doorway of her bedroom.He moved, and her feet slipped from around him, her body sliding sinuously against his as her feet found the ground.Momentarily cognizant of all that was happening, he stood with his arms around her, and her hands placed lightly on his chest.Their heavy breathes mingled together.He laid his forehead against hers.He looked at her with longing and need, and her eyes answered him.Something between them shifted, and he felt something in his heart click into place.

“Tell me I’m not crazy. Tell me you need me as much as I need you.Tell me this is real.Calm this raging chaos inside of me.” His voice was pleading, and so low, it was nearly inaudible.He hung upon her answer.

“Shh, you’re not crazy,” she whispered, a whispered kiss against his lips.“I feel it, too.I need you, deep, deep inside of me, I need you.This is real, and right, and this will change everything, but I want you more than I can say.Please, Sheldon, please, just love me, maybe then this chaos will calm us both.”

He needed no further urging.He kissed her again, and they quickly pulled at their garments, putting them aside. He stepped back, his hands at her waist, admiring her. She was a vision of loveliness, and more, she was his to discover.He held out his hand to her, she took it willingly,and he guided her to the bed. The desperate need was somehow banked, but a gentle fire still consumed them both as they explored one another.He kissed a pathway down to her breasts, taking first one nipple and then the other into his mouth.His hands moved further along her curves, sliding silkily, and discovering secret spots that made her shiver.His fingers slipped into her folds: so warm, and wet, and ready for him.He played her like a piano, and she rose and crescendoed like a symphony.And when she came, it was like Elijah, she arched up in a chariot of fire, with his name again spilling from those ruby lips.He knew in that very moment that unraveling the secrets of Amy was more important to him than unraveling the secrets of the Universe.She was his universe.She was everything.With need now bubbling up like a hot spring inside, he moved to kiss her once more, aligning their bodies. 

Their eyes locked, and she lifted her hips for him.He entered the volcano, and they both moaned at their joining.He waited a beat, then two, his vision blurry, and his instinct to consume held deep in check as she adjusted to this new and unfathomable feeling within her.Lifting her head, she kissed him, a sign to continue.Moving within her, he lost all sense of time and space.Their souls joined as deeply as their bodies, he spiraled into a plane of joyful delight. He could not contain his joy inside, and as he was pulled into her depths, again and again, he spoke whispered, hurried confessions of his love into her ear. 

“You are the sun.You are the moon.You are all the stars in every galaxy of the universe.” Each thrust was punctuated by an admission of his deepest, darkest secrets. “You are an eclipse.You are the burning fire of a comet.You are every atom that makes up the universe.My love for you is bigger, so much bigger than the expanse of the galaxy.I am more because of you.We are binary stars, traveling together in time and space.You feel like everything all around and everywhere, and I need you, oh I love you.Amy.Amy, Oh My Amy,” and then, with a final desperate thrust, he emptied all that he was inside of her.His shaking arms could no longer bear his weight, and he collapsed against her, his lips at her throat.Their labored breathing began to calm.He felt her hands moving gently against his back.It was then that he glanced up, and there were tears in her eyes.Startled, he pushed himself up.“Amy?Did I hurt you?” 

She shook her head vehemently.“No, no.It was… beautiful.What you said, I… I love you, Sheldon.”And she lifted her lips to his, searching to extend their intimacy.He kissed her gently, calmed.He felt so peaceful.It no longer mattered that there was chaos everywhere.Amy had been right.Together, they had driven the unrelenting fear and chaos away, by embracing each other.

“My beautiful Amy. “ He rolled over to his back, pulling her into the crook of his arm.“That was..”his thought trailed off at the lack of adjectives to describe how incredible and perfect their joining had been for him. 

“Yes, “ she whispered, nuzzling into him, “It was.” 

“Embrace the chaos.” He said aloud, a small chuckle escaping.“We sure did.”

“Was that a musical booty call?” Amy asked, giggling, and snuggling closer to him.

“Ummm.” he said, tracing her side with his fingertips.“And more.”He smiled as he felt her sigh against him,. Her breathing deepened, and she fell into a contented sleep, curled against him.His body, now fully relaxed, was deeply sated. 

Just as sleep claimed him, one coherent thought crossed his mind: _The music had taken him home, to her._

**Author's Note:**

> Please read and review. I am so enjoying writing these fics, and I hope our fandom is enjoying reading them.


End file.
